The appointment

I could write a book about my experiences with one particular hospital. Today was no better. On the way there I told the friend who took me in that I was going with zero expectations, so I could hopefully be pleasantly surprised.

They were surprised. No-one had made the appointment. I had a call over 2 weeks ago to tell me the appointment had been changed to today. I even called them yesterday to say I had had no paperwork and what time was it and where did I go. They supplied all the info. Unfortunately they never actually MADE the appointment. Good start then.

I was approaching volcano status. "The consultant won't see you without an appointment". Hello. I am not moving. I am not here for a bunion, I am here because I have damaged myself and have an injury which should have been seen 6 weeks ago. I will not move. "But we don't have your notes". I am more than capable of telling the man exactly what I have done, and as there is no proper diagnosis as yet, he can sort that one out. "I will have to ask him, but I don't hold out much hope." You misunderstand me. I am not leaving till he sees me. And believe me, you do not want to make me mad right now. I will be contacting the chief executive on Monday morning as it is.

Much scurrying about with me sitting there wondering if I am about to be bodily ejected from the building. Then the nurse re-appeared and said "He has agreed to see you." Gee thanks. I am overwhelmed. Wise man.

To cut a long story short, he saw me. I told him. He looked at the knee. He moved it and it made some clunking noises, and he stopped and said - that does not sound good at all. It is not supposed to do that. And I burst into tears. Finally. A consultant who has recognised that something is wrong. I have to have a leg brace for the leg and that will be sorted at the start of the week. You can't get anything done on a Saturday. I need an MRI but the waiting list could be as much as 6 weeks, so I told him I would see when the appointment was - I should hear by Wednesday, and if I have to wait more than a week, I will pay to go privately. He agreed that would be best. Or guess what - I would have to wait 6 weeks to see him again. 6 weeks in a brace. Immobile.

It is not going to happen. If I have this *&!*&%$ MRI next week, he can decide on the treatment immediately afterwards. I can't wait any more.

He says he has no idea how extensive the damage inside the knee is at the moment, or how much damage I have done to it over the 6 weeks. The brace should protect what is left of it. The worrying bit was when he asked how old I was. I told him that I was not ready for the scrapheap yet, and that I needed a fully functioning knee.

So I came home. Wiped out. I have been up since 4am again. I toppled onto the couch and slept for 3 hours. Everything is a battle. Everything. And you know what???? I am tired of battles.

Now I am going to go and compose a couple of letters. Of the volcanic variety.

PS: There appears to have been a sitemeter/IE incompatibility problem today in the blogging world. I could not open anything this morning but it is working ok at the moment. Just as well. I was about to take an axe to the computer.